


I Still Dream About You, Sometimes But Not Always

by chickxfisher



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depression, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Quick Burn, References to Depression, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Short & Sweet, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:24:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19933975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chickxfisher/pseuds/chickxfisher
Summary: This fic is based off my own feelings and coping mechanisms. Screaming at the top of your lungs in a deserted canyon is weirdly specific but boy does it fucking help. Please remember to support me by following my twitter @Fisherxchick





	I Still Dream About You, Sometimes But Not Always

Waking to the edge, he had memorised the mountain formation, being here almost every day now he could remember the way here and back like the back of his hand.

Taking in a deep breath he closed his eyes, letting the wind brush over him gently.

He didn't want to be a dad, part of him even rejected the idea that it could be his but that only lead to him thinking about the possibilities of who is. And the one that pained him the most to think about was Arthur, even if it's unlikely the idea would never leave Johns mind no matter the liquor or women he took to bed.

Looking down at his feet he saw where the cliff ended, and he wasn't afraid. He had thought about this moment for months, he had thought about what it'd feel like to just, go.

John wasn't a religious man down to pat so the whole "it's a sin" never crossed his mind never would at this point. His hands gripping at his sides he tilted his head back.

Taking in the cold mountain air he gulped, readying himself it didn't take long for his body to give way. Falling forwards from the mountainside he closed his eyes as if everything had slipped into slow motion he took the last few seconds to admire the forest. The sky.

His whole life had to lead up to this inevitable push.

Feeling his hand jerk backwards he was suddenly pulled up onto the ground, scrambling away from the person who had grabbed him, he saw only pain. It was Arthur. His eyes were sad as he sat there on his knees, hands shaking as he struggled for words, his body was trembling and his eyes were full of fear.

John also was at a loss for words, but he was ready to be reprimanded for his behaviour, looking down at the grass below him, he grabbed handfuls of the stuff. An awkward but tight hug, he felt Arthur wrap his arms around him, squeezing so tightly as if he were to not, John would float away. And he was right, if Arthur had not been there with him right now, he would have been dead.

Hesitantly hugging Arthur back it turned into a soft embrace to one that could be his last.

Arthur was crying, hard, but he remained quiet as he choked on his tears. Crushing John in his arms like it was nothing he just cried, John gulped back tears, letting his brother sob quietly into him.

After a good cry, Arthur hesitantly let go of John. Still clinging onto his shoulder Arthur stared deeply into Johns' eyes.

He still didn't know what to say but the pain and heartbreak in his eyes were more painful than any words imaginable.

"Come on, let's-" Arthur stood up, gripping Johns hand tightly. "Let's go."

Being dragged over to Arthur's horse, John thought there wouldn't be any point arguing back and let him be pulled along. Looking to the edge of the cliff he saw the sky settle, flicks of orange and pink decorated the sky as the sun lowered.

Them both mounting up, Arthur trotted off slowly back to camp, holding John's hand tightly as the other directed the reins.

"I ain't mad at you. I- I know, how it feels."

Arthur's voice was soft, it was low but not harsh in any way. He did know how John felt, but it wasn't as easy as that to accept.

"I won't tell, but please. Promise me-"  
"Arthur I can't." John cut him off, he knew what he was going to say he had heard it many a time before. Today was no different.

"Don't do it for me, do it for Jack."

John paused, his heart was hurting more and more by the second. He just wanted to sleep.

Pulling up to camp he dismounted quicker than Arthur as he stormed to his tent. Feeling his hand slip, John stranded Arthur by his horse, running towards his tent he stood inside of it, his head touching the roof as he felt his chest tighten.

Carefully sitting down into his bed, he placed his head in his hands, tears effortlessly rolling down his wrists as it stung the cuts and scars that remained. He started scratching them, feeling his body shake he looked under the cot, digging underneath it through his things for a bottle of whiskey he had stashed from the last party.

Finding nothing he assumed that he either already drank it or someone had taken it. Either way, he wasn't happy with its disappearance. Poking his head out of his tent he looked for anyone who could be an obstacle, looking towards Arthurs tent he saw him standing there, holding a picture frame. Presumably, the same photo of Mary that he refuses to throw.

Seeing this as an opportunity he ran for his horse, not wasting a second.

John no longer cared, whether he was captured or killed he didn't find any purpose. Putting his foot in the stirrup he mounted up.

"John Henry Marston!"

That voice, it made John shudder. Turning hesitantly to Abigail who had called him he almost felt like grabbing his revolver and taking his life then and there.

If he still had, his revolver that is. Arthur had confiscated it last run-up at the cliffs.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"You better not be running off again. If you do I- I'll kill you myself!" She yelled, stomping her foot against the ground

John smiled to himself. If only the woman knew that's exactly what he wanted, and a part of him wanted to believe her empty threats.

"Whatever you say, dear."

"Marston if you think you're going anywhere you're a damn fool." Arthur came storming over and before John could ride off he was pulled down from his horse and dragged away as Abigail followed carefully behind.

"Let go of me Arthur-" John whined as he was dragged along by his wrist, being tossed back into his tent and on the bed he shut it, leaving only him and Arthur in the tent alone.

"What has gotten into you Marston?! Yesterday, last week, last MONTH! This morning- I- If Dutch hadn't told me you left y- you w- would-" Arthur slowed down, holding Johns wrist he lifted his arm up, observing the scars and bruises there they were no accident.

Arthurs panicked expression grew, reaching towards Johns belt he snatched the knife out of it, holding it by the blade he tossed it to the ground, "Do you not think?!" Arthur hissed, his voice was low, pained and sore.

He had nothing more to say, the visible anger in his eyes was burning but the tears streaming down his face said otherwise.

John didn't feel anything besides the usual numbness in his heart.

Neither of them knew how to deal with this properly and there was no easy solution to what either of them was feeling.

Arthur sighed as he sat down on the bed, John carefully sat down next to him. Their knees touching as they sat in silence.

John needed a hug, he needed something in his body besides alcohol. And as if Arthur could read his mind, he felt an arm wrap around his torso. Being pulled in close for a hug they both sat in each other's arms, not speaking, not crying, just holding each other.

  
John woke up, it was very late. He must have cried himself to sleep, shuffling he felt Arthur by his side, who was also asleep. Gulping he carefully got up, making sure he didn't wake Arthur he left his tent, carefully stepping past everyone who was singing around the campfire he made way for the edge of horseshoe overlook.

Looking down the cliffside he noticed it was a shorter drop than the one he was at earlier that day. Reaching outwards he felt the breeze over his hand, looking backwards to the warm fire and his family sitting around it, singing and cheering on.

The noise from the party would create a perfect cover-up for the sound of John hitting the ground.

So entranced in the thought he didn't hear or see Arthur stand next to him.

"Beautiful night isn't it?"

John shrugged, nodding as he rubbed his arm. "I guess so."

Arthur nodded his head as he put his hand on Johns' shoulder, the sad look in his eyes remained thought. They both stood there, the cold air settling as laughs and cheers erupted from the campfire. 

"Would you ride with me? I want to show you somethin'" Arthur smiled softly, turning his head to John. The question was a little absurd, at this time of night? Where would they go?

Nodding hesitantly, John followed Arthur to his horse. John was held close to Arthur, almost falling asleep they stopped almost as fast as they started. Opening his eyes he realised where they were.

It was a large canyon. Stretching out for miles and it was quite a drop. But John knew they weren't here for what he thought they were. Dismounting, Arthur walked to the ledge, hand in the pocket of his buckskin jacket. John stood cautiously close to Arthur, his hand still being tightly held by Arthur.

"I come here, well I used ta but- I would come here and look out beyond all the stars up there, all them little flickerin' lights on the horizon."

"And I would scream." John laughed a little, "Scream?"

"Sure. It helps. You don't need to say anything specific you just, let go." John stood there, the silence of the deep canyon with the occasional animal, mostly coyotes out here.

"You don't have ta, but it always h-"

John screamed, his lungs burning as he yelled at the top of them. Birds flying out of the canyon as the sound echoed through.

As the screaming got weaker it turned to sobs. Feeling his hand be taken by Arthur's he joined in on the screaming. Both now screaming and crying as they held each other's hand.

After a good few minutes of silence, they both were laughing loudly as tears fell from their eyes, looking at each other in the eyes they sloppily kissed.

"W-Why are we-" John smiled, turning to Arthur. "Why are we laughing?!" Arthur just shrugged as he laughed more, wiping his eye with the corner of his palm. Sniffling, John embraced Arthur tightly. Holding him close as he sobbed into his chest, enjoying the warm embrace as they both sobbed together.

The black Inky sky with its little lights, the flickering of stars and clouds moving slowly, the dark trees and the animals chirping by. Arthur held John, and John held Arthur. Hands being held they intertwined their fingers with each other's, with a soft kiss on Johns' forehead they stood there, swaying each other gently they relaxed.

"Promise me you won't do it again."

Arthur hummed gently as he stroked Johns' hair.

"I promise," John replied calmly, sniffling lightly as he choked back tears into Arthurs jacket, smiling into it.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off my own feelings and coping mechanisms. Screaming at the top of your lungs in a deserted canyon is weirdly specific but boy does it fucking help. Please remember to support me by following my twitter @Fisherxchick


End file.
